


Rise Up

by fallingfordreams



Category: Sherlock (TV), Supernatural
Genre: British Men of Letters, Hurt!Sam Winchester, M/M, Supernatural Season 12, Tortured!Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-03 02:09:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11522325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallingfordreams/pseuds/fallingfordreams
Summary: As soon as Mary Winchester hunted with the British Men of Letters, she knew something was wrong. She found out almost immediately that they planned to exterminate the American hunters, alerting Sam and Dean.Sam, Dean, and Castiel decided to take the fight to them, meeting a couple new friends who want to help destroy the Men of Letters.(I suck at summaries I'm so sorry).





	1. Chapter 1

~now~

"Dean? Cas?" Sam yells out in the darkness, his hands feeling for a wall (or anything to steady him). His other hand holds tightly on to his phone, where Dean was supposed to be on the other line. 

But he, of course, has poor signal, and he feels that Dean can't hear him.

"Dean?!" He yells again, basically falling against the wall after he trips over something on the ground, letting out a grunt as his shoulder hits the wall. His phone falls to the floor with a 'plop', landing in the water. 

The bullet wound in his shoulder stings and his left hand reaches over to it. When he pulls his hand back, he can feel it is covered in a thick layer of blood. 

He leans over, his hand feeling for his cell phone. He then hears footsteps and loud talking from behind him in the sewers.

"Come on," he says softly, frantically trying to grab his phone before giving up and running as quietly as he can in the other direction. 

One of his hands remains touching the wall as he tries to navigate his way out, although he is completely lost. He curses under his breath as flashlights illuminate his path. He turns his head and sees about three people, all heavily armed. He begins to run faster as he trips over something, falling on to the ground. 

His body slides on to the ground, his clothing getting soaked in the filthy water. He tries to force himself to his feet before a gun crashes down on his head, causing him to black out instantly. 

~~~~~

~2 days earlier~

With Lucifer (most likely) back in the cage and Kelly Cline having (by some miracle) not gotten pregnant, Sam, Dean, and Castiel have found that the British Men of Letters are not quite as great as they tried to make themselves seem. 

After a near death experience, Mary Winchester fled back to Sam and Dean, telling them of the British Men of Letters plan to exterminate the American Hunters. They had already killed many of Sam and Dean's allies (luckily not including Claire and Jody). 

And that is why Sam, Dean, and Castiel find themselves on a flight to England. To take their leaders out before they execute every American hunter. 

Sam tried to encourage them to stay home and protect America from the inside, but Dean insisted on taking out the leaders and leaving the rest to pick up the pieces. Neither of them are too fond of killing the innocents in this situation; their plan is to take out the ones who give the orders and those who try and protect them. 

Sam looks up from his book and looks around the air plane, letting out a soft yawn. They were nearly to the England with only about an hour to go. 

Cas was watching Netflix on his phone and let out the occasional half-hearted laugh. Dean, who was watching the show with him at first to try to calm his nerves, had fallen asleep about an hour into the flight. His head had slowly fallen down on to Castiel's shoulder and had not moved since. 

Sam looks away from them and out the window of plane, seeing nothing but darkness below them.

He then looks back to the two of them and snaps a quick picture. He would definitely use that to taunt Dean later. 

He then goes back to reading, waiting for the flight to end.


	2. Chapter 2

It was now the second day of their trip, and Sam was wandering the streets of London. He had gotten a tip from his mother that the men of letters had a meeting scheduled for today at roughly 14:00 near the Big Ben. 

He still hates using that time. 

It was around 13:00 and he was leaning on a brick wall, his eyes examining every face he sees. 

He finds that it is extremely boring and he wishes Dean would have joined him. Dean and Castiel were checking out a different lead on a possible weapon transport to America. 

His hand rests on the (smuggled) gun that is in his waistband. He waits for about 30 minutes until he notices something rather suspicious; three people dressed in rather formal clothing going down a dark alley with large duffel bags. 

Sam crosses the street and looks down the alleyway, seeing the three people press on a few bricks in a wall, the wall opening up into a small doorway. They all slide inside. 

Sam walks over as fast as he can, his head peering in the doorway. The opening then begins to shut and he slides inside, immediately regretting it. He sees the room is well lit and full of people, and he ducks down, sliding under a large, round table in front of him. 

The table cloth was fortunately long enough that they don't notice him under the table. 

In fact, they somehow didn't notice him enter the room. 

Sam, who doesn't know where to go, sits under the table and listens. 

"I thought these were on their way to the American base?" A heavily accented woman's voice says.

"They were, ma'am, but there was a... mishap," a different voice says.

Sam hears the large bags being set on the ground. 

"What do you mean?" The woman says. Her foot taps on the floor, causing the floor to vibrate softly. 

"Someone ambushed the plane, took one bag of 'em, and set the plane on fire!" a different voice says. "We couldn't get a clear look at their faces."

Sam smiles a bit. Dean. 

"Well, I suppose that could happen to anyone..." the woman's voice says, but softer, "But not to us. Do you know how much our reputation could be damaged because of this? How much longer we will have to stay in America because we are not well equipped?"

Sam peers his head out of the other side of the table, tuning out their conversation for a moment. He looks around for an exit before he hears footsteps approaching the table and he quickly ducks back under. 

He then notices bodies sitting on the chairs, one by one. His eyes widen and he sits as close to the center of the round table as possible. 

He hears plates clank as they are put on the table, and the hum of conversation. This doesn't seem to be much of a formal meeting. And he can't hear anything important. 

He then hears a phone ring after what seems like hours. 

"What news have you got for me, Edward?" The woman's voice says. 

"You found the group of hunters in California? Perfect," she says. "Yes. Yes. Take them out as soon as possible."

Sam clenches his fist, sending a text to Dean. 'Warn the Foresters. The MOL found them. Don't reply.'

Sam shoves his phone back in his pocket, adjusting himself. His neck hurts, and he can't wait for them to stop eating. 

He jumps as a fork hits the floor and a man leans down to grab it. The man then makes eye contact with Sam and gasps, "What the-" the man starts and quickly stands, his hand grabbing his gun and aiming it at Sam. 

Sam grabs his gun as the entire table pauses. 

"What is it?"

"One of tho-" he begins. Sam quickly cuts him off by shooting his calf. 

Sam slides out from under the table, raising his gun and aiming it at the people at the table. There was about 8 of them, and only one of him. 

Great. 

He had been in worse situations before, though, so he should be fine. Right?

The man who he shot then fires at shot at him, but Sam hits his arm, causing the bullet to fire into the ceiling. 

"Oh good. Just what we needed. A Winchester to crash the party," the woman says. "Put down the gun; I'd hate to have to hurt you."

Sam's eyes search for an exit as he fires his gun at the table, hitting the large smoked turkey on the center. His back hits the wall and he accidentally presses a button, causing the wall behind him to shake. 

The opening begins to open in the wall as a rain of gunfire fires at him, causing him to duck to the ground. He then quickly stands and sprints out the door, not before getting hit with a bullet. 

The bullet stings as it goes straight through his shoulder and finds itself lodged inside him. He cries out in pain before running as fast as he can, turning out of the alleyway. His hand clutches his shoulder. 

He hears a lot of footsteps behind him. 

~~~~~

~now~

Sam wakes up to a splash of cold water on his face. Why did they always like to do that?

His eyes open to see a rather angry looking man staring him in the eyes. His arms and legs instinctively jump and find themselves restrained to a chair. 

"Time to wake up, Sammy," the man hisses. His face was uncomfortably close to Sam's. 

"Don't call me Sammy, you asshat," Sam says spitefully, his head throbbing. He finds it hard to focus his eyes on the man's face. 

"Mmmh, that's not very nice, Sammy," he says, "Now, I have a few questions for you."

"Go to hell," Sam mutters. 

"What was that?"

"I said. Go. To. Hell," Sam repeats, blinking a few times to focus his vision. 

"I don't think I'm gunna do that. Sorry," the man says loudly. "Okay. First question. Where is your brother?"

Sam narrows his eyes, shaking his head, "And why would I tell you?"

"Because I'll make you regret it if you don't," the man gives him a fake smile. 

"Oh. Yeah. Right. Scary," Sam mocks, "You're gunna torture me? Like I told your buddy back in America; you guys have nothing on the devil." 

The man laughs, "But what if we... lets say... had the devil," he pauses. "What then?"

Sam can't help but have a small bit of fear be struck into him, "You're lying," Sam says simply. 

"Perhaps," the man replies, pulling a knife from his pocket, "But perhaps not. You don't know."

Sam rolls his eyes, looking to the knife, "Mhmm, scary. A knife."

Before Sam even has time to process this, the man shoves the knife into his bullet wound, causing Sam to let out an involuntary cry of pain. 

"Where is Dean Winchester?" The man says, wiggling the knife around a bit. 

Sam grits his teeth and looks away from the man. If that man actually thought he would tell him anything, he was mistaken. 

The man then yanks the knife out, blood flowing down Sam's shirt along with the bullet flopping out on to the floor. Sam looks to the man with a small smile on his face, his eyes not even showing any emotion. 

"Where is Dean Winchester?" The man repeats. He gives Sam a few seconds to answer before whistling, and Sam hears more footsteps enter the room. 

"Missy, would you mind grabbing that blowtorch for me?"

Sam sighs. This thing again? "You guys really like to reuse your old tricks, huh?"

"I guess the saying is true, you can't teach an old dog new tricks," the man says as a woman walks up, handing him a blowtorch. "Or maybe you just don't really need to."

The woman then walks out of Sam's line of sight. Sam soon feels cold hands grabbing on to his face, a rough gag being placed into his mouth. 

"Now, we wouldn't want you to wake our boss, would we?"

The cloth is then tied behind his head, the woman pressing Sam's head back on to the chair. 

Sam's fists clench as the man turns on the blowtorch and chuckles softly to himself. He approaches Sam and places the flame directly on top of Sam's foot, causing him to cry out. 

 

After about two hours, they still had gotten nowhere. 

Sam was still on the chair on the verge of unconsciousness, completely unaware of the large tub of water that had just been pulled into the room. 

"Rise and shine, sleeping beauty," the man says, grabbing Sam by the hair and forcing his head up. He pulls the gag from his mouth. "Ready to tell me where your brother is?"

"Screw you," Sam mutters, his eyes focusing on the man's face. 

The girl who has been called Missy undoes the bindings on Sam's ankles and wrists. Sam, of course, stands as fast as he can and tries to swing a punch. And he, of course, forgets that on of his feet is almost burnt down to the bone. He falls down almost as soon as he stood up, letting out a grunt of pain. 

His vision blurs as they pick him up by his arms, basically dragging him over to the large tub. He had already lost a lot of blood. 

His head is then forced into the water, causing him to violently try to shove his body back. The man holds him down while Missy holds his head under. He starts to panic, his hands trying to swing at the man only to be forced behind his back painfully.

The girl then grabs his hair and forces his head out of the water. He gasps for air. 

"Fine, then," the man says. Sam hears more footsteps enter the room. "If you're not going to talk now, I bet you'll talk after this."

His vision then comes in to focus on a large syringe directly in front of his face. 

"W-what is-" Sam looks at the dark liquid inside, and he has a feeling that he already knows. 

"You see, we did research on you Winchester, and found something very interesting about you, Sammy," the hand holding the syringe hovers the needle over Sam's arm, "You used to have an addiction."

Sam's eyes widen and he tries to pull himself out of the man's grasp. He only gets pulled closer, his back up against the (somehow) taller man's chest. "No- y- you wouldn't-" Sam says softly. 

"But we would. And we will. If you don't tell us where your brother is," the man says softly into Sam's ear. 

No. No. NO. This can't be happening. "Don't do this," Sam says softly, "Please. Please!"

"Begging isn't good enough, Sammy. Especially begging that's that... dignified," he mocks, his grip tightening on Sam's arms and shoulder. "Beg more, and maybe I'll consider."

Sam looks down at the syringe that was mere millimeters from piercing his skin, "P- please- please don't- I can't-"

"Times up," the man says. 

The needle is then forced into Sam's arm despite his greatest efforts to get free. "No- please!" Sam begs, letting out a soft whimper as the demon blood is injected into his bloodstream. The girl pulls the needle out of his skin. 

The man then throws Sam on to the ground, Sam landing hard on his back. 

"We have rough 5 minutes before we need to leave. You know what to do," the man says. 

Sam weakly tries to shove him back as the man holds him against the floor, one of his hands forcing Sam's mouth open. 

"No-" Sam protests before the girl comes back in the room with a large bottle of the liquid. She then pours it in his mouth, continuing to pour even when he doesn't swallow. The blood flows out of his mouth and on to the floor, sticking in his hair. 

She then stops and the man forces Sam's mouth and nose closed. "Swallow it, damn you," the man mutters. And, after about a minute, Sam does.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam watches with hazy eyes as the girls write various sigils on the walls. 

They had set him back in the chair, only bothering to tie his arms and legs down with low-quality rope. 

It had only been about two minutes but it felt like hours, and he can basically hear the blood pumping through his veins. The hurt flesh, particularly the flesh on his burnt foot, was healing quickly. 

What the hell were they thinking? Were they thinking he would just give his brother way at the sight of the blood?

Or did they not really know the full effects of it?

Either way, this was his best chance of escape, no matter how awful the circumstances. 

The man slowly slides open the door, motioning to the girls that it was time to leave. This was his chance. 

Sam snaps the ropes with ease and one of the girls gasps, turning to him. 

"Oh, well, maybe not five minutes-" the man begins, starting to pull the door shut. 

Sam starts towards the door, raising his hand. He causes the door to swing open, and the man to have a rather surprised look on his face. 

One of the girls runs at him with a knife, but with the flick of his hand, her neck was snapped. Sam's eyes widen as her body falls to the floor. 

That... was not what he meant to do. 

The other people have already ran out of the room, leaving Sam and the man standing in the doorway. 

He holds up what seems to be angel blade as Sam lunges at him, knocking the blade from his hand. Sam grabs on to his hand and forces his arm behind his back, shoving him up against the wall. 

He apparently shoved him a lot harder than he anticipated, seeing as the man's face was now a bloody mess, and his ribs and arm were mostly shattered. 

Sam quickly takes a step back and lets the man's squirming body fall to the floor. He then sprints up the steps, his eyes gazing around the room. 

Did they just have a dungeon in the middle of a mansion? They furniture was nice and looked as though- He doesn't have time for that! 

He shakes his head to focus his vision, looking around for any potential danger. He takes a few steps forward before hearing gunshots, a bullet flying right past his head. A man runs into the room with his gun raised. 

Sam raises his hand to knock the man aside, but ends up snapping his neck. Man, he has really lost his touch. 

He tries not to feel bad, though; this is a kill or be killed situation, and these sons of bitches were the ones who pumped him full of this in the first place.

A few more people run into the room and it only takes a second for Sam to send them all flying backwards. A man takes Sam by surprise when he basically appears behind him and grabs on to one of his arms. Sam flips around, grabbing on to the man’s shoulders and kicking him on to a nearby table. 

He spots a door and he runs towards it after pushing away a few more people. He turns the handle, and, upon finding out it is locked, kicks the door. It only takes about few times before the door falls. 

On the other side of the door stood a person. Sam raises his hand to move them, but his vision begins to blur. It is then when he realizes it isn't a person at all, but he can't focus long enough to actually tell what it is. 

A sudden wave of warm falls over him. He brings his hands to his head as he begins to get a raging headache, his skin covered in a layer of sweat. Things begin to dance around in his vision as he stumbles backwards, blacking out before he hits the floor. 

~~~~~

Sam awakens with a groan, his whole body feeling weak. He was back in the god damn chair again with his arms handcuffed behind his back and his legs tied to the chair with chains. 

"Oh, finally. He's awake," a woman's voice says, the voice echoing around the room, "Well, I'd say you made quite the mess out there." A figure appears in Sam's line of vision, but he has a hard time focusing on it. 

Sam is able to partially focus on the woman in front of him, noticing it was the same woman from the dinner meeting. 

"I tried to tell them to take the proper safety precautions," she says, but it doesn't seem directed at him. She then begins to speak again, but he can't really hear her. His ears started to ring. 

And once his ear stop ringing, he just intentionally ignores her, thinking about what was standing at the door.

It might have been a ghost, but that does make much sense. It could have been anything, really. 

But whatever it was seemed to speed up the 'detox' process. It stopped him from escaping, but you win some you lose some. 

Once she realizes he wasn't listening, she slaps him across the face.

~~~~~

A little while later, he is then dunked in and out of the tub of water repeatedly, his body aching from both the cold water, the need for sleep, and the small longing for more demon blood. 

They drop him in the tub completely as the sound of a gunshot echoes through the room. He frantically tries to pull himself to the surface as a lid is slammed down on to the top of the container. 

Was it Dean? Sam thinks. Who else would be shooting at the men of letters?

His hands slam against the lid, but it is solidly in place. His lungs now burn as his need for air replaces his need for blood. His legs kick at the lid but it won't budge. He continues to hear gunshots. 

He jumps as a hole is shot into the container, narrowly missing Sam. The water then begins to slowly flow out of the container, eventually enough so that Sam can take a gasp of air at the top. He pushes at the lid more as the container drains, but it still does not budge. 

His hand grabs for the bullet hole and he tries to somehow make the hole bigger. His finger slides through it, and he finds out that his finger is now stuck and the water can't drain more. Great. 

He pulls his arm and his finger eventually slides out. 

"Help!" Sam yells weakly, and the gunshots eventually stop. 

The lid is pulled open and Sam seems the blurry figure of a dark hair man. Although Sam is having a hard time seeing his face, he knows that it isn't Dean or Cas. He just hopes whoever it is is willing to help him. 

"Well this is new," the man says, grabbing on to Sam by the shirt and pulling him up to a sitting position. 

This is when Sam's body decides it has had enough (again), and he passes out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thanks so much for reading this far (and I sincerely apologize for the awfully written combat scenes).  
> I promise that it will actually be a Sherlock crossover soon!


	4. Chapter 4

"Watson, why did you insist we bring him here?" A voice says as Sam wakes, but keeps his eyes closed. 

"Sherlock, you do realize that they would have killed him? And you just wanted to leave him there?"

"I'm not saying I wanted to, I'm saying that was the logical thing to do. We're going to have to put up the cloaking spell on our house again. That's a pain the in ass."

"Seriously? That's your problem with this?"

"Plus I have 'clients' who need my help. How will they reach me when their cat goes missing again?" 

Sam senses a hint of sarcasm at the end of that statement. 

The two go silent. 

"You do realize that I know you're awake," a voice says (Sam assumes belongs to 'Sherlock'). That has to be some sort of code name, right?

Sam slowly sits up, looking to the two men. His eyes gaze to the tall, dark haired man, and he can't stop staring. He wasn't attractive, per se, but he seemed to admit a sort of aura that Sam was rather attracted to. 

"Flattering, but I'm taken," Sherlock says bluntly, causing both John and Sam to give him strange looks, but for different reasons. 

"I- I wasn't-" Sam starts, but soon falls silent. He looks to the other man, who was staring at Sherlock. 

"You do realize that now that we're together you don't have to let everyone know," 'Watson' says. 

"That's not at all what I was doing, John," Sherlock pauses, looking him. "You seem to be the one who stated that so boldly."

John sighs and then looks over to Sam, who was sitting silently on the couch, "Well, uh, welcome."

"Oh please, save the pleasantries for the queen," Sherlock says, looking to Sam, "What is your name and what did you do to piss off the Men of Letters?"

"Uh... Sam," Sam states. "And... I was sitting under their dinner table."

"You what?" John says, confused. 

"I was sitting under their dinner table trying to, you know, eavesdrop."

"You're an American hunter, aren't you?"

Sam narrows his eyes. "What makes you say that?"

"Well, your accent, the multiple scars on your body, that fact that the men of letters hate you, the slightly detached in your eyes, and-" he pauses, looking Sam over, "You're wearing flannel."

"What does flannel have to do with this?" Sam narrows his eyes. 

"It's the middle of the summer. The only people who wear flannel in July are hunters."

Sam looks him over and then shifts on the couch, letting out a groan of pain as his head begins to throb. That demon blood residue definitely wasn't treating him kindly. 

"So why were you attacking a men of letters base anyways?" Sam asks, rubbing his eyes. 

"They kept trying to kill me when I go out for groceries," Sherlock says. 

"What?" Sam asks. 

"We're witches, you see. John and I, and they don't like that."

"I thought the men of letters killed all of the witches in England," Sam states. 

"Oh please, is that what they told you? England had the highest witch to human ratio out of every other country."

Sam pauses, his mind spinning. "Wait, so are you... like... the Sherlock from those books?" Sam can't seem to stop looking at Sherlock.

Sherlock narrows his eyes, but then nods. "Yes. John wrote those books before I could tell him not to, and then he published them. As he did with his blog."

"Blog?" Sam asks. 

"What? People think it's just fan fiction, but I still make money off it," John shrugs. 

Sam adjusts himself on the couch and looks to Sherlock, finding himself rather fascinated by his blue eyes. Or were they green? 

"Uh, can I make a phone call?" Sam asks quickly. 

~~~~~

"Sammy? Oh thank god," Dean says on the other end of the phone. "What happened?"

"They, uh, captured me and tried to get me to tell them where you were," Sam says. He isn't going to elaborate. 

"Oh, those assholes are gunna pay," Dean pauses, "Whose phone are you calling from?"

"Uh... just... you know... Sherlock Holmes's."

Dean laughs, "Seriously, Sam. Come on."

"Dean, really? You've met everything from God to the Darkness, and this is where you draw the line?"

"But, he's a fictional character. From a long time ago."

"He's a witch."

"Oh. Well," Dean sighs, "Fine. Okay. Where are you?"

"Uh..." Sam turns them, "Yeah, where are we?" He asks Watson, who was taking a bite of a sandwich. 

It takes him a moment to answer as he finishes his bite, "221B Baker Street."

"221B Baker Street," Sam repeats. 

"And tell whoever they are to hurry up. We need to recreate our cloaking spell," Sherlock says from the other room. 

~~~~~

"Sherlock!" Mrs. Hudson says at the door. "You have guests?"

She turns the handle, finding that the door is locked. "Will you leave this door unlocked for once?"

John and Sherlock were in the kitchen, so Sam decides to get up off the couch. He quickly becomes lightheaded and nearly falls over, but he makes it to the door. He unlocks the door, opening it. 

On the other side is a very disgruntled looking woman giving him a curious look. "No offense darling, but who the hell are you?"

"Sam!" Dean says, walking into the doorway and nearly pushing Mrs. Hudson over. 

"Sherlock! Just let me know when you have guests over, alright?" She frowns, walking back down the steps.

Sherlock mutters something from the other room. 

Sam takes a step inside, Dean walking fully into the room with Castiel following him. 

"Oh," Sherlock walks into the room, "Please tell me they wiped off their shoes before they came in." He then pauses, scanning Dean's face and then Castiel's. 

"Oh. Hello Castiel," Sherlock says, a slight smirk on his face. 

John enters the room, "Do you two know each other?"

Dean looks to Cas, who shrugs. 

"Well, few hundred years ago or so, Castiel and I had a... thing."

"A thing?" John asks.

"What kind of thing?" Dean asks. 

"Uh-" Cas starts. 

"A 'thing'. A pretty hot, romantic thing if you ask me," Sherlock states simply. 

"What?" John asks. 

"I am 99% sure you said you were a virgin," Dean looks to Cas and laughs slightly, although he looks kind of uncomfortable. 

"Well, I was one... in this vessel."

"Oh please," Sherlock says. "You thought that he had existed for thousands of years and had never had sex before?"

They stand in silence for an awkward moment before John speaks. "So, anyone want some tea?"


	5. Chapter 5

"Wow, I knew the men of letters were arseholes, but trying to kill the American hunters? That's a new low," John states, taking a sip of tea.

Sherlock and John sit across from each other in chairs, while Sam, Dean, and Castiel sit next to each other on the couch. Sam and Dean both hold the small tea cups awkwardly, while Castiel passed on tea altogether. 

"Yeah, tell me about it," Dean frowns, "So, can you guys help us out?"

"What exactly are you wanting to do?" Sherlock asks. 

"Just take out the leaders. There's no need to kill too many innocents," Sam says. 

"But you do realize the others will come after us," Sherlock says, looking to Sam. 

"Yeah, well, we'll cross that bridge when we get to it."

~~~~~

"Are you sure?" Sherlock says into his phone, pacing around the room. "I don't want it to be like last time-"

It was a week after they first met Sherlock and John, and the three were not 'allowed' to leave 221B Baker Street. The place was protected, and the British Men of Letters were looking all over for the Winchesters. It had mostly been the two witches who went out to investigate, leaving them to research. 

Dean hated it. 

Sam, on the other hand, was glad. It gave him more time to recover from the demon blood incident, so that hopefully he will not have a craving next time he sees a demon. 

"Okay- will you just meet us here? I don't even know what you're talking about," Sherlock states. "Mycroft, I don't care if you're in a movie- this is more important!"

A crash comes from the kitchen where Dean and Cas were trying to make dinner with whatever was in the cabinets. He misses the last few words of the conversation. 

Sherlock hangs up the phone, yelling into the kitchen, "Those are antiques!"

"Not anymore!" Dean yells back. 

Sherlock rolls his eyes, sitting down next to Sam on the couch. Sam looks up from the very thin book he was pretending to read, "What was that about?"

"If I'm being honest, I have no idea. My brother is coming in a minute to talk about something," a silence falls over the room, with the occasional crash coming from the kitchen. 

Sam looks down at the book and reads the first few sentences, his eyes narrowing and his head tilting in confusion. 

"What is it?" Sherlock asks. 

"I- I'm not sure. I've never seen this language before."

Sherlock basically rips the book from his hands, "That's because it's not from this dimension."

"What? W- where did you get this?"

"The Men of Letter base we raided when we found you..." Sherlock eyes the book for a moment.

"Well what does it say?"

"I'm not very fluent in this language, but... it's a spell. Something about interdimensional travel..." he frowns. 

"Why the hell would they have that?" Sam asks. 

"They do like their research, but this seems a bit extreme. Even for them."

The door opens, John walking inside. He starts to speak, but Sherlock cuts him off. "John, can you read this?"

"In a minute Sherlock. I need some crisps," he walks into the kitchen and laughs. "Really? On the countertop?"

"John what are they doing on t-"

"Not cooking," John says.

"What d- oh."

"Come on, John. We were just kissing," Dean says. "For now."

"Just get off the damn counter," John walks out of the room. "What did you need Sherlock?" His face was rather blushed. 

Sherlocks holds the book up, turning to around so John can see. John takes it. 

"I have no idea. Where did you get this?"

"It was at the men of letters base, remember?"

"Oh right," John hands it back to him. "What is it?"

"It's from another dimension, that's what it is-"

"Another dimension?" Cas asks as he and Dean walk into the room. "Let me see."

Both Dean and Castiel had messed up hair, and Cas's tie was anything but straight. Dean was currently buttoning up the top few buttons of his shirt. 

Cas walks over, grabbing the book from Sherlock's hands. "So this is where they get their technology," he states plainly, handing the book back to Sherlock. 

"So t-" Dean begins. 

Mycroft then appears in the center of the room, nearly knocking John over with the huge bag he sets on the ground. "There is a shipment going over to America tonight. You need to intercept it."

Sherlock frowns, "Couldn't you have said that over the phone?"

"Like I said, I was in a movie," he frowns, his eyes scanning the faces in the room. "Oh, hello Castiel."

Castiel ignores him. 

"What time is the shipment?" John asks. 

"About two hours in that 'abandoned' airport. You know the one," he looks to Sherlock. 

"What exactly is on this plane, Mycroft?"

"How would I know? I just know it sounded important."

"Sounded?" John asks. 

"While I was in the movie, I overheard two of the men of letters talking," he leans down, unzipping the bag. The bodies of a man and a woman lay inside. 

"What the hell?" Dean says, looking to Mycroft. 

"Don't freak out, they're just unconscious," he laughs softly, "Oh, Americans."

"Why do you have them in your bag?" John asks. 

"Because," Mycroft begins, "Using a potion, two of you can disguise yourselves as them. Then, you can sneak on the plane and make it land in a different location. Easy."

"With what, a polyjuice potion?" Sam asks jokingly.

Dean rolls his eyes like he does every time Sam makes a Harry Potter reference 

"Basically, yes. But it's much simpler," Sherlock says, looking to Sam with a smirk. "So," he looks around the room, "Who wants to do it with me?"

"I can," John says. 

"You are the worst actor I have ever met," Sherlock states, "Sorry."

John rolls his eyes, then smiles slightly, "Love you too."

"I can do it," Sam says.

"Sam-"

"Dean, I'm not going to argue with you on this."

Dean frowns and looks to Sam, "Fine."

"So, where do you propose we land it?" John asks Mycroft. 

"I own property in northern Scotland with a landing strip, I can send you the coordinates once you are on the plane."

"Why do you- nevermind," John says. 

"I will need the rest of you to help me secure this location, though. All of my properties are on the men of letters radar, so I might need some help locating their spies."

"We can do that," Dean says, his hand brushing against Castiel's. 

"Great..." Mycroft says sarcastically. "Okay. Lets go."

"Wait, what am I supposed to do?" John asks. 

"Try to translate this book-" Sherlock tosses the book to John, who almost drops it. 

"Seriously? Can't Castiel read it?"

"Only parts," Cas says. 

"Ugh. Fine," John says, opening up the book.


	6. Chapter 6

"So how long does this last?" Sam asks (in a much higher voice), motioning to his 'new' body. He was now a shorter woman wearing a black dress.

Sherlock, who was about the same height but a bit heavier with blonde hair, replies, "If were lucky, two hours. It sound be long enough to get on the plane."

~~~~~

"Mr. and Mrs. Douglas, what took you so long?" A tall man says, scanning their IDs. "The plane is scheduled to leave now."

"My apologies. The traffic was horrible," Sherlock says, taking back the ID. "Is everything loaded up?"

"Yes, sir. The plane is just waiting for its pilots," he hands Sam back his ID, "You do know the coordinates of where you are flying, correct?"

"Yes."

"Great. Have a good flight," the man says, opening up the gate for them. 

They walk through the various security gates, eventually boarding the plane and heading to the cockpit.

"You do know how to fly a plane, right?" Sam asks, sitting down in the copilot seat.

"Of course I know how to fly a plane," Sherlock says, almost too defensively. 

"Do you really?"

"I- I've read a manual once, okay? Most this is automatic..." Sherlock mumbles, hitting various buttons. The plane drives quickly down the runway and he puts his hands on the wheel. "Hit the red button."

"Which one?"

"THE BIG RED BUTTON."

"THEY'RE ALL BIG RED BUTTONS," Sam slams his hand down on multiple buttons and the plane jerks. 

It takes about 5 minutes of screaming at each other before the plane takes off and Sherlock sets it on autopilot. 

Sherlock's phone buzzes and he pulls it out, "Ah, finally. The coordinates." He starts pushing buttons. 

"Don't we need to turn the tracker off first?"

"What the hell do you think I'm doing?" Sherlock replies, continuing to press buttons. 

"O-kay," Sam replies. "Need any help?" 

One good thing about being in different bodies, his mind was confused enough to not be attracted to the detective. 

"No, thank you," he spits. Sam can tell that he is extremely frustrated at not being good at something, "Just go see what the cargo is, will you?"

~~~~~

"Guns, guns, guns..." Sam repeats, looking in the many cargo boxes in the plane. 

He pries open another box with a crowbar and suddenly drops the metal bar with a clank. "Ah- oh-" he grits his teeth, his hands grabbing on to the box's edge. It felt as though his body just had a major cramp, and he was suddenly back in his own body. 

And he had to admit, this dress would be pretty comfortable if it wasn't about 6 sizes too small. 

He frowns as he looks in the box, seeing a single item. It was silver, round, and about the size of a basketball. It had a slight shimmer to it. Next to it was a jar. 

He picks up the jar first, shaking it. It sounds like nothing is inside, so he opens it up. The inside of the container was extremely bright, and a light wisp seems to fly out and Sam quickly shuts the jar. Were those... souls? He sets the jar back down in the box. 

"Sam?!" Sherlock yells. "Why did I just have a soul fly out the window?"

"Uh... don't open any jars you find!" Sam yells back, earning a laugh from the other man. 

He then reaches his hands in the box and pulls out the deceptively light object, examining the outside. He finds a red button on the side, and, against his better judgement, presses it. 

The object splits in half, revealing what looks like a mirror. He looks at himself for a moment before a voice echoes through the room. 

It was definitely not in English, and he had a feeling that it wasn't a human language at all. 

"What?" Sam replies, and the object begins to emit and ear-piercing screech. 

Another face appears in the mirror directly behind Sam and his heart rate picks up. This figure appears to be a shadow, and Sam can feel a breath on his neck. Is this the figure that he saw at the Men of Letters' base?

He frantically presses the button again and the screeching stops, but the shadow was still behind him in the mirror. As soon as he turns his head to look at it, he feels hands wrap around his neck and he is forced backwards, his back hitting the crate. 

He kicks his leg at the figure, which was human in shape. His foot seems to go right through it and he gasps for air, dropping the object on to the ground. 

He hears footsteps enter the room and the shadow figure disappears, seeming to go back into the mirror. The object closes back into its circular shape. 

"Sam! What are you doing?!" Sherlock says, running over to him. He was back into his normal form, too. 

"I- pressed a button-" Sam slowly stands up, his hand rubbing against his neck. It was burning hot.

"Didn't you learn when you were a child not to press random buttons?"

"To be fair," Sam picks up the object again and sets it in the crate. It was oddly cold, "I didn't have a very good father."

Sherlock rolls his eyes, "Well, at least you figured out what lives in that other dimension."

"How do you know that for sure?"

"Don't be daft, Samuel. I've lived for thousands of years. I've seen their kind before, briefly. They're from the Netherworld."

"W- why do the men of letters have a portal to the another dimension?"

"I think they have been trading with them, exchanging human souls for information and technology."

Sam frowns, his hands rubbing his neck again, "Why do you think that?"

"They have a jar full of souls in this plane, and the Netherworld dwellers use souls as a form of currency. And since they look like shadows, they are great spies when they want to be."

~~~~~

They were sitting in the cockpit again, and Sherlock was applying a cooling salve to Sam's neck. They had been talking for a while and the room had just recently fallen silent. 

Sherlock leans in a bit closer, putting more on the other side of his neck. Sherlock moves his hands down, slowly resting one on Sam's shoulder. 

He then plants a firm kiss on Sam's lips, and Sam's eyes widen. 

Sherlock pulls his head back. 

"W- wh- what was that?" Sam stutters, his heart seeming to skip a beat. 

"Just testing a hypothesis..." Sherlock says softly, taking a step back. "I'm going to the loo." He then walks out of the room without a word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't actually know how much longer this is going to be, but I'm thinking of updating Fridays and Wednesdays?


	7. Chapter 7

"What the hell?" Sam says as he stands, following Sherlock. 

"What?" Sherlock turns. 

"You can't just kiss someone and then walk off!" Sam frowns, staring him in the eyes. His heart was still racing from both the kiss and the incident with the shadow man. 

"I- sorry?" He says, sighing. "Just forget it. I wasn't thinking." He says the last part softer. 

Sam takes a step back, wincing slightly as his neck begins to burn more again. "Fine. Whatever," he takes a deep breath, walking back down to the cargo room. 

What gave Sherlock the right to just kiss him like that?

And why did Sam like it? That guy was a bit of an ass. Plus he was in a relationship. 

He walks back over to the box and picks up the crowbar, putting the lid back on the box. The plane then suddenly jerks to the right and he falls on to the box, groaning. A few boxes slide around.

As the plane straightens, he stands up again, flatting out his dress. 

"There has got to be a change of clothes somewhere..." he mutters, picking up the crowbar again. He opens up a few more boxes, finding a ton of weapons. 

He opens up yet another box and finds it is completely full of angel blades. A box that is up to his hips complete full. He picks one up in his hands, examining it. 

He sets the blade back down and continues to open up boxes. He eventually makes it to the end of the room and (after climbing over a few boxes that had slid) he finds a door. 

He turns the handle and finds it is locked. He hits it with the crowbar a few times and shoves it between the door and the frame, prying it open. 

The door flies open and something flies at his face, taking him by surprise, "Ah-" he falls backwards, his eyes gazing up and seeing a bat flying around the room. 

"What?" He says, standing up and looking at it closer. As he starts to get a better look, something else starts to fly out of the room, but gets held back by a chain. 

It was a literal dragon, complete with scales and flames coming out of its mouth, only it was about the size of a small cat. He jumps back and the dragon focuses its eyes on Sam, making a hissing sound. It then flies back into the room. 

Sam sets the crowbar down and walks back, grabbing an angel blade. He then makes his way back to the room, looking inside. He flips a light switch, seeing the room was rather small. It was full of about five cages, and a chair where the sixth cage should be. 

Sam looks up, seeing the small dragon was perching on top of one of the cages. It was eying Sam curiously. 

All of the cages appear to be empty. The walls were lined with different sigils, some of which Sam has not seen before. 

Sam looks back up at the dragon, who was still staring at him. It makes him slightly uncomfortable, so he decides to leave. He takes a step out and turns off the light. The bat flies back inside, and Sam can hear it screeching. He can only assume the dragon ate it. 

He frowns and begins to shut the door before hearing whispering coming from the room. "Uh, hello?" Sam says softly, slowly opening the door again. 

The plane then suddenly jerks again and Sam falls forward, sliding into the room. The plane straightens itself out again. 

"Hey! Sherlock! What's going on up there?" Sam yells, the dragon hissing at him. 

As he begins to stand, the door slams shut and he finds himself surrounded by total darkness. 

"Aw, Sammy," a familiar voice begins, "Did you get all dressed up for me?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is really short, sorry dudes.


	8. Chapter 8

Oh no. Oh. No.

Lucifer. 

Sam stands up quickly, his hand gripping around the angel blade. He backs up, his other hand trying to find either the door or the light switch. 

"Come on Sammy, didn't you miss me?" Sam feels a hand wrap around his arm and instantly jerks back, swinging the blade. 

The blade is forced from his hand and goes crashing to the floor. Another hand wraps around his wrist. 

"H- how-" Sam mutters, swinging a kick, but Lucifer not moving an inch. 

"Well, with Crowley's help, those British jerks managed to 'trap' me in this vessel. Rather nice of them, actually. Except that they're making me do their dirty work."

The lights suddenly turn on and Lucifer shoves Sam to the ground. 

"And, you know, I was perfectly fine in my last vessel. I almost had a child... almost..." Lucifer bends over and grabs the blade from the ground. "Given a little more time, maybe I would have. And whose fault is it that I ran out of time?"

Sam tries to stand but Lucifer kicks him, sending him flying back against the door. 

"Oh right. You, your brother, and my brother," he pauses, "But since you're the only one here, you'll have to do." A smirk appears on his face. 

"Woah, hey- look- we both have a problem with the men of letters, right?"

Lucifer narrows his eyes, "Mhmmm."

"You could help us take them out," Sam says softly.

"Ah, so. You think that I couldn't just do that on my own, that's cute," he makes a sound that sounds much like a purr, the knife hovering around Sam's face. "And you think that I believe you wouldn't just turn around and use the same things to control me, or just pop me back in the cage."

Sam sighs, "Fair enough."

"So... where were we?" Lucifer grabs on to Sam's arm, forcing him to his feet. 

Sam spits on his face. 

Lucifer laughs, shoving him back against the door and wiping off the spit in one motion. 

"Hey! Sam!" Sherlock's voice echoes through the plane. "We're about to land! I need some help!"

Lucifer basically purrs again, looking Sam in the eyes. "Ooooh, there's another one. Who is it?"

"I- I'm busy!" Sam yells back. 

"Doing what? Oh- don't tell me you're pouting. I apologized!"

"I'm- I'm pooping!"

Lucifer laughs, "Oh, great excuse."

"You're... pooping?" There's a pause, "Okay... I'll land the plane by myself then."

"So where are we going, Sammy?" Lucifer asks, smirking. "I bet we're going to see your dear old brother, aren't we?"

Sam's hand reaches for the door handle, but Lucifer grabs it. 

"Now, I will help you destroy them, if you help me destroy what controls this vessel, capeesh?"

"Why would I do that?"

"If you don't, I'll kill whoever is flying this plane, your brother, and Castiel," he stares Sam directly in the eyes. 

Sam sighs, "Fine, if-"

"Do you really think I'll bargain with you?" 

"If you don't have a child."

Lucifer narrows his eyes, "Fair enough."

Even though Sam doesn't trust him and doesn't want to help him, he decides to go along with it. For now. 

"Sam? Can I be honest with you for a minute?"

Sam sighs, and Lucifer takes that as a yes. 

"I'm obviously still pissed at you and your brother, but I'm not angry at the world anymore. You help me, and I'll take a little vacation," Lucifer opens his mouth to say more but then shuts it. 

Sam had to admit, he sounded sincere. 

They stand in silence as they feel the plane land, both of them nearly falling over a few times. The dragon hisses, flying down on to Lucifer's shoulder. He reaches his hand up and breaks the chain around the dragon's neck. 

Lucifer then roughly pulls Sam out of the way, opening the door. 

~~~~~

"You have got to be kidding me," Dean says as Sam, Sherlock, and Lucifer exit the plane.

Mycroft walks out from behind Dean and Castiel, completely ignoring anything else that was going on to go see what was in the plane. 

Sherlock was standing behind Sam and Lucifer and was staring at Lucifer, seemingly awestruck. The first thing he said when he saw him was, "You're the actual 'devil'? Fascinating."

"Nope, not kidding. Sorry to disappoint," Lucifer looks to Dean, letting his eyes go red for a moment before returning to normal. 

"How-" Castiel begins before getting cut off. His fists were clenched. 

"Well, thanks to your little friend Crowley and those British assholes, I have my old vessel back," he pauses, "But don't worry, I'm here to help this time."

"You? Help?" Dean says. 

"Hey, I help! I helped with the Darkness, didn't I?" 

Dean rolls his eyes, "Why would you want to help us take out the men of letters?"

"Because, you idiot," he does an over exaggerated eye roll to mock Dean, "Since they 'made' this vessel, they control it. They want to use me as their own personal nuke, and honestly: I just want a vacation. Some time at the bea-"

"What's your point?" Castiel says. 

"I help you take out the men of letters, and you help me destroy the 'control panel' for this vessel."

"Yeah, uh... how do I put this in a way you'll understand?" Dean says, "Hell. No."

"Aw, common Deano," he folds his arms, "Look, I wouldn't trust me either. Would it help if I promised not to destroy the world?" He makes his best attempt at puppy dog eyes before giving up and chuckling. "Seriously, I don't even care about that anymore. Almost going back into the cage for the third time changed my perspective."

Dean looks to Sam, and Sam frowns, giving him a soft shrug as if to say 'your call'.

Dean pauses, looking to Cas for a moment before looking back to Lucifer, "Fine, but if you step one toe out of line-"

"You'll do what? Spank me?"

Dean sighs, muttering something under his breath. He then speaks again, "Is that a... dragon?"

Lucifer reaches his hand up, stroking the dragon on his shoulder lightly. "No, it's a cat," there's a pause, "Of course it's a dragon."

Dean then looks to Sam, and he finally seems to notice the outfit. "Sam, if you want to wear dresses, that's fine, but at least try them on. Stop ordering the cheap ones off of Amazon."

Sam rolls his eyes, "I-"

"Come on, there's a change of clothes in the house."


	9. Chapter 9

"Wait," Dean says as they all sit around a round table, "You're telling me that you 'want to help', but that you can't even help us fight?"

"I told you," Lucifer replies, his fists clenching under the table, "I'm no help in their base."

"Well then what help could you be?"

"Well," he starts, "I didn't kill your little bro Sammy on the plane today. And I can draw a full map of the facility, plus give you the codes to view the security cameras."

"How the hell do you know that?" Sam asks, fiddling with the lower button of his shirt. 

"I was there for a while. I got bored," he shrugs. 

"Mycroft, would you mind getting him so paper and a pen?" Sherlock asks, looking to his left where his brother is sitting. 

Mycroft stands and does a mock bow, "My pleasure." He walks out of the room into the next room, where multiple drawers can be heard opening at once. 

"So how are they not controlling you right now?" Sherlock turns his head to Lucifer, narrowing his eyes. 

"Well, they have to know where I am."

"And you're saying that they didn't put a tracking device on you?" Castiel pipes up. 

"Well, they did, but I ripped it out and destroyed it. They make microchips for pets stronger than that," his hand motions to a mildly inflamed circle behind his ear. 

Just as Sherlock was about to speak again, Mycroft walks in the room, yelling, "Catch!" And throwing the pen and pad of paper at the table in a matter of seconds. 

~~~~~

Around an hour later, Sam, Dean, Castiel, and Sherlock were all equipped with multiple weapons and a headset (which Mycroft would not explain why he had so many of) so that Mycroft and Lucifer could communicate with them from the base (Sam was not looking forward to that). But that was the best choice. 

"Wait! We need some for... uh... John, right?" Dean asks. 

Sherlock sighs, "I grabbed extra. Now let's go."

Mycroft walks out of the other room and over to them. "Remember. Destroy the sigils at the north entrance so Castiel can enter with you."

"I have an eidetic memory," Sherlock sighs. 

"That reminder wasn't for you, you ass," he starts out of the room, "Good luck."

"You know, I don't think we discussed how we were going to get there..." Sam says. 

"Magic, obviously," Sherlock snaps his fingers, and Sam's vision goes black. 

~~~~~

After stopping by and grabbing John (who was taking a nap after having translated as much as the book as he could), they were at the north entrance. And, after talking it through, John decided that they would probably open the door if 'they just knocked'.

Everyone else thought it was a bad idea, but hid behind cars anyways as John knocks on the door. 

The door opens, a rather angry looking man standing on the other side. 

Before she can say anything, John speaks, "I am so sorry, but do you have a lavatory I can use?"

"Sir, this is a secure facility, you should not be here."

"Keep stalling," Mycroft says over the headset, "Wait until we disable the exterior cameras."

"Well, when nature calls-"

"Sir-"

"I'm sorry, I have a bladder infection, and the next place to stop was in 50 miles-"

"Sir there are trees-"

"The cameras are off. Go!"

John then swiftly pulls a knife out of his pocket, stabbing it through the man's temple until his body falls slack. He grabs the security card from the man's vest. 

Sam shoots a glance to Sherlock with the look that says 'hey I though we were trying not to kill everyone'. 

Sherlock doesn't notice and is too busy non-discreetly checking out John's ass through the window of the car. He then runs forward, joining John at the door. They both work frantically to destroy the sigils plastered on the walls. 

Sherlock then reaches his hand out the door, motioning to Sam, Dean, and Castiel. They run towards the door as fast as the can and slam it behind them. 

"Damn, the cameras are back on. I trust you all made it inside?" Mycroft mutters. 

"Did I hear doubt in your voice, dear brother?" Sherlock replies. 

"Of course, I always doubt your boyfriend's acting skills," Mycroft replies. 

"I dunno," Lucifer says, "I thought that handsome hunk did a good job. Wink wink."

"Guys I'm standing right here."

"And did you just say 'wink wink'?" Sam whispers. 

"Sure did hun, wink wink," Lucifer says sarcastically. 

"Guys? Seriously? We do not need to be having this conversation right now," Dean says in an angry, yet hushed voice. 

"I don't know, Deano- I think these Men of Letters are idiots th- shit," Lucifer says. 

"What?" Dean replies.

"Duck into the door to your right. A whole group of them is coming now the nearby corridor," Mycroft says. 

John scans the keycard on the door, the door beeping. "Denied? What kind of security card is this?" He scans it again, getting another beep from the door. "Mycroft, get this damn door open!"

"I'm working on it!" They can all hear angry typing coming through. 

"Mycroft! Hurry up!" Sherlock says, his head turning as a group of them appear at the end of the hallway, "Damn."

Dean immediately raises his gun, and they all follow his lead. All except for Castiel, who fumbles through his trench-coat pockets and tries to find his. 

"Drop your weapons. Now," a man says calmly, pulling a gun out of the holster and pointing it in their direction. 

"Naw, I think we're good," Dean replies, stepping to the front of the group. "I think you might want to take your own advice, though."

"God damn it," the other man says, "The Winchesters and... friends."

"Wow, you make us sound like a bad comedy show," Dean replies.

"W- what?" The woman standing next to the two men replies, narrowing her eyes at them. 

"You know? The Winchesters and Friends? It sounds like a low-budget sitcom that somehow keeps getting renewed," Dean says, "No?" He raises an eyebrow, then shrugs, "Okay." He then fires a shot, hitting the lead man in the stomach and causing him to collapse, blood pooling on the ground. 

Alarms immediately begin to blare as more shots are fired from both sides. The men of letters all fall and somehow missed every shot they took. 

They look over the corpses, trying to find a keycard that actually worked. They didn't have any. 

"Nice job," Mycroft groans, "I- uh. Okay. Take a left down the hallway. It is clear for now, but a huge group is heading your way from the south."

Without a word, the group runs down the left hallway. 

It is then when Lucifer lets out a soft laugh and begins to sing softly, "Doodly doo, sprintin' down the hallway-"

"What the hell-" Dean says softly through breaths. 

Sam agrees. They were getting too old for sprinting. 

"There is a door to your right, try that one," Mycroft says. "They're gaining on you, you'll need to let them pass."

"Doodly doo, going to the door-" 

"SHUT-" Sam begins. 

"I gotta keycard-"

John swipes the keycard, the door beeping at him. 

"It's the wrong one-"

"UP-"

"OH BOY!"

"Lucifer, now is not the time to make a Markiplier reference. How about you just look at the damn cameras and try to help us out of this mess?" Castiel says sternly. 

"No way, you watch Markiplier too?" Dean asks, getting elbowed by Cas. 

Gunshots then ring through the hallway as Sam turns his head, ducking a narrowly missing a bullet. 

Lucifer then quietly whispers, "I am gunna die," in a singsongy voice. 

"Lucifer I swear, stop singing that-" Dean begins before firing a shot. 

They then shoot back, taking down the group of five easily. 

Sam runs over and grabs a keycard off of a well-dressed woman before rejoining the group. 

"Okay. I have located the main meeting hall... they seem to be heavily armed, so you will have to be careful," Mycroft says. 

~~~~~

"Mycroft, the keycard isn't working-" John says angrily. 

"I swear, that man had the highest security clearance-" Mycroft responds. 

"Yeah well not high enough. Can you get this door open before we have to get shot at again?" Sherlock says bitterly. 

"Working on it."

"Uh, guys?" Lucifer says. His tone was... different.

"What?" Sam replies. 

"I have no idea what the hell happened in this room, but you'll want to watch your step."

A few aggressive keyboard clicks can be heard as the door creaks open, and Sam is immediately overwhelmed with a throbbing headache. He stumbled backwards, knocking Sherlock into the metal wall behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! I'm not going to be able to upload the last chapter this week (I'm kinda busy), but it will (probably) be up next week!


	10. Chapter 10

"Sam? Sam!" Dean's voice seems to echo in Sam's ears as his vision comes back into focus.

He can hear his heart pounding in his ears, and his nose is filled with the metallic scent of blood. 

Dean reaches his arm down to help Sam to his feet, and then he begins to help Sherlock up. Sherlock slaps his hand back, reaching into his pocket and grabbing something that looks like a strange hex bag. He tosses at the end of the hallway near the curve just as a group of men runs through. The bag explodes, blood splattering along the walls. 

"Oh, gross," Dean says, temporarily forgetting about the room. "Anyways. Uh..." he turns, opening the door more and immediately making a face, "Shit. It looks like a massacre in here."

"It's demon blood," Castiel states, peering into the room. "They must have been experimenting with it."

Sam's head was still pounding as he looks into the room. The walls and floor were white, but are now splattered with blood. Many bodies lay around the room, some of which seem to have been flayed. 

"Shit," Dean says, looking into the room before looking back at Sam. 

"Mycroft, this is the fastest way to the office, right?" John asks. 

"Right," Mycroft responds, pausing. "Wait, what?" He pauses again. 

"What is it?" Sherlock asks. 

"They just opened up the damn wall and walked inside," Mycroft explains. 

Wow, they seem to like their hidden doors.

"Wait, is that-" Lucifer starts. "Crowley." He pauses, "You need to get in there. Now."

"Wait, what does Crowley have to do with this-" Castiel asks. 

And why was Crowley here?

"Look, I don't have tim-"

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell is going on," Dean states. 

"Okay, fine! You know how I told you something was controlling my vessel? That something is Crowley. You need to kill him, and fast, before they send him through that portal-"

"Portal?" Dean asks. 

"Yeah, you know, just a portal to another dimension and the reason the men of letters will be able to take out the American hunters you are so fond of. NOW WILL YOU HURRY UP AND GO THROUGH THE ROOM?"

Dean rolls his rooms but takes a few steps inside, Castiel close behind him. 

"Uh, Dean?" Sam asks softly.

"What?" He turns his head in Sam's direction. 

"I- I don't think I can go in there."

"Why not?"

Sherlock rolls his eyes, "Isn't it obvious? He-"

Sam shoots him a look that says 'shut up' and Sherlock does. 

Dean sighs, walking over to him, "Look, I get you had that demon blood thing a while back, but I think you'll be fine."

Sherlock and John walk into the room, and John suppresses a gag. 

"Yeah, about that..." Sam mutters. 

Dean narrow his eyes.

"The men of letters... kinda... gave me demon blood."

Dean frowns, "You've got to be kidding me. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I- I didn't want to worry you... I knew you'd make a big deal out of it," There is a pause, and Sam fires his gun at a few people running down the hallways. 

"Of course I would, it is a big deal-"

"Dean, we really don't have time for this right now! I'll wait back here and guard the entr-"

"Sam, we need your help. Now you're going with us even if I have to carry you."

~~~~~

The room was surprisingly large, but they all made it through unscathed (other than John being scarred for life and Sam starting to get cravings again. Just a normal day.)

They made it into the office and sealed all of the doors tight, and also piling chairs in front of them just for good measure. 

"There should be a handle under the table. Pull it," Mycroft instructs. 

Sherlock grabs a fancy gun off of the table as John pulls the lever, the wall starting to open. Sherlock then throws the gun on the ground dramatically, so Sam assumes that it is empty. 

The wall opens and they all begin to walk inside, guns raised. Everything seemed quiet. Too quiet. 

Castiel runs his hand along the wall to try and find a light switch. He soon flips one on, and a few people run out of the darkness at them, firing their guns. One or two bullets hit Castiel in the shoulder, but since they are normal bullets they do not phase him. 

They shoot back, taking all four of them out. 

They walk forward as fast as they can, turning a corner and finding a large room. At one end of the room was a large mirror, and next to the mirror was a table with a few jugs of demon blood (great interior decor). All of this was behind three men, a woman, and Crowley, of course. 

"Well, I would say this is a pleasant surprise, but I would be lying on two fronts. Isn't never pleasant to see any of you, and I'm not exactly shocked that you're here," the woman says, gripping her hand on to Crowley's arm. 

Crowley looks like he does not want to be there, and his hands are handcuffed together. 

Who is this woman?

The three men begin firing shots, but they all suck at shooting and miss. Dean fires a few shots, hitting them all directly between the eyes. 

Sam's head was pounding and he still found it hard to focus. But he could focus enough to see that she was pulling out a gun, and that the gun wasn't just any gun. 

"The Colt," Dean mutters under his breath. 

The lady smirks, "Oh, this old thing? Just one last gift from your mother before she decided she was 'too good' for us."

Whoever this lady was, she was clearly important. 

She pulls the trigger, aiming the gun at the group. She didn't actually care who she hit.

"Watch out!" Mycroft warns. 

Suddenly, everything seemed to be it slow motion.

The bullet headed straight for Cas. 

Dean trying to pull him back, but failing. 

Sherlock jumping in front of Cas. 

The bullet plunging straight into Sherlock's chest. 

John catching him.

Mycroft's gasp coming from the headset. 

As soon as Sherlock's body hits the ground, Sam forces himself to look away and to look at the person who fired the bullet. 

She tries to fire again but the gun clicks. She shoves the gun back into the holster presses her hand up against the mirror, muttering a few words. The mirror transforms into a steaming black liquid that drops down from the wall. She shoves Crowley backwards, and he stumbles, falling into the liquid. 

As her hand reaches for the bottle behind her, Sam fires a shot, hitting her once in the shoulder. He fires a few more times, causing her to cry out in pain before eventually putting one in her heart. 

John rips the headset out of his ear, his eyes welling up with tears. He plants a firm kiss on to Sherlock's (dead) lips. 

Sam, Dean, and Castiel all look away, feeling as though they shouldn't stare. But none of them speak, fearing they would say something to make it worse. 

Dean walks over to her body, grabbing the Colt and searching her body. He finds a bit of ammo in her back pocket, but no form of identification. He starts to load the gun. 

Sam frowns, his mind still not really processing the events. His eyes then gaze to the portal. It just looks like black paint dripping down the wall, but- oh god is that a hand?

A shadowy figure seems to slither its way out of the wall, its hand reaching for Dean. 

"Dean!" Sam exclaims, pointing. 

Dean jumps and turns around, "What the-" he aims the gun at the figure's head.

It tilts its head at Dean and lets out a scream unlike anything they have ever heard. Dean shoots and the figure disappears in a flash of light, a pile of goop plopping onto the floor. 

Sam then looks over the John and Sherlock. Or, more like where they were. John must have 'teleported' away with Sherlock's body. 

Sam wished he could have expressed his condolences, but Sherlock did sacrifice himself for Sam's friend... so John must not have wanted to talk to any of them. 

"Uh," Lucifer's voice comes over the headsets, "Hate to interrupt, but one of you has to go through that portal."

"Yeah, no way," Dean says. 

Castiel walks over to Dean and grabs his hand. 

"Well, one of you has to kill Crowley for me," Lucifer sighs. 

"Yeah, well that's not happening," Sam states. 

"Yeah, well it is happening. Did I mention that the only way to close the barriers between our two dimensions is on the other side?"

Sam opens his mouth to speak, but then shuts it. 

"And it has to be you, Sam."

"Hell. No." Dean states. 

"Aw, Deano, I get that you still want to protect your brother, but he's the only one that can do this. A regular human soul can't survive the trip through; it needs a little steroids. You know. Demon blood."

"Again, no. Way."

"Damn it, if you don't close the portal, those 'shadow men' will destroy the world. And not that I'm some hero, but I'd rather not have everything taken over by darkness despite popular belief."

Sam frowns, looking over at Dean. If this was true... there's no way he couldn't do it.

"I could do it," Cas says. 

"An angel with weak, tattered grace? Not much better than a regular human soul."

~~~~~

After a bit of arguing, Sam had decided to take matters into his own hands. He had to do this. As much as he didn't want to help Lucifer, he had to stop the destruction. He grabs the bottle of demon blood, opening the lid. 

"Sam, put that down- there is other ways, you know that-" Dean says angrily. Another shadow figure peeps through and he shoots it. 

Sam takes and deep breath before shaking his head. He takes a big drink of the blood, the thick liquid running down his throat. He then begins to down more, and Dean runs over to him, trying to rip the bottle from his hands. All that does it make Sam drink faster and then spill the rest on Dean and the floor.

Sam throws the bottle aside and Dean grabs on to his sleeve, but Sam throws him aside with ease. 

Sam mutters a quick apology under his breath as he shoves himself through the portal.


End file.
